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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27055801">Peaches &amp; Vine: A Strawberry Wine Coda</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverdaleHales/pseuds/RiverdaleHales'>RiverdaleHales</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>One Shot Collection [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Riverdale (TV 2017)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Angst and Tragedy, Bughead babies, Car Accidents, Coda, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Farmer Jughead, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Married Life, Mentions of Smut, One-Shot, Varchie Babies, bughead - Freeform, pregnant betty, varchie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:41:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,030</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27055801</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverdaleHales/pseuds/RiverdaleHales</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Married life is great for Betty &amp; Jughead. They have the perfect house, the cutest kids, and amazing family and friends. But when tragedy strikes and Jughead is tested beyond belief; how will he handle and face the possibility of raising a family without the love of his life... </p><p>Read Part 1: "Strawberry Wine," https://archiveofourown.org/works/22912939/chapters/54767041</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Archie Andrews &amp; Veronica Lodge, Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge, Betty Cooper &amp; Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>One Shot Collection [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1507073</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>8th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Peaches &amp; Vine: A Strawberry Wine Coda</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So... I finally got around to finishing this and it's a doozy! I'm sorry that it took so long &amp; I'm not even sure who's still interested but I figured it shouldn't just go to waste! I hope you enjoy this crazy &amp; emotional journey! -Hales</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><b> <em> Betty’s POV </em> </b> </p><p>I stretch out languidly against the sheets. Our room is warm, the morning sun bouncing off the wooden floors. I hear clatter coming from the kitchen, so I know that the kids are already awake. I can’t help the half drowsy smile that spreads through my face at just how content I feel. I feel the bed dip behind me, so I slowly turn, and I notice Jughead smiling when he sees my eyes.  </p><p>“Hi...” I mutter, my eyes squinting at the sudden intrusion of light.  </p><p>“Good morning, my beautiful wife.” He leans down to kiss me, and I catch his face in my hands, holding his lips against my mouth for just a little longer.  </p><p>“Where are the kids?”  </p><p>“In the kitchen, I made them pancakes...” He says happily and it makes me laugh.  </p><p>“Good job daddy...” I say cheekily, pulling him down to kiss me again. </p><p>“I wanted to let you sleep...” He tells me. “I know it’s been hard for you to get comfortable lately.”  </p><p>His hand settles over my belly. I’m huge, bigger than I was with the other two. I feel the baby kick at Jughead’s hand, and he smiles with a soft laugh- feeling it too. The baby always kicks every time it seemingly hears Jughead’s voice or feels his hands on my skin. I already know that this little one is going to be wrapped around daddy’s finger.  </p><p>“How’s our little peanut?”  </p><p>“I know I keep saying it, but I’m seriously all baby this time...” He rubs my big belly some more and I feel endless flutters within. It’s like the best kind of butterflies. “I can’t believe that I’ll be thirty-five weeks tomorrow.”  </p><p> </p><p>I’ve had a pretty mild pregnancy this go around. Not as much morning sickness and a lot less fatigue. My hormones are constantly raging, I can't seem to get enough of Jughead. Not that he minds one bit. With Will, I’d been in hell for practically all three trimesters. I had morning sickness throughout the entire nine months that hit at every minute of the damn day and said screw you to the hours of the A.M. Jughead had been the absolute sweetest, managing the vineyard and taking care of Emma as a rambunctious toddler while I grew our son.  </p><p> <em>William </em><em>Kai Jones.</em> William, protector and first-born son. Kai held the meaning of recovery. Representing Jughead and I’s ability to reconstruct what we’d lost and build such a beautiful life together. Jughead had been ecstatic when we’d found out that I was pregnant with a boy. He was having a son, a little boy, his shadow. Only to our surprise, I popped out a blonde haired, green eyed, seven-pound little boy. No one had expected my genes to carry through, but they had. And Will was the cutest little boy, well at least I thought so. Although, I may be biased.  </p><p> </p><p>Jughead and I had decided after Will that we wouldn’t have any more children. His pregnancy had been too hard on me- the recovery being worse. I had to have a C-section. When my water had broken the cord had wrapped around his neck. Will has kept up on our toes from the moment he was conceived. I then developed a nasty infection, leaving me unable to breastfeed and Jughead to care for a newborn and a toddler while I recovered. It put a major strain on our marriage with a lot of sleepless nights, baby spit up, and Emma’s terrible two’s. Jughead was worried that I’d develop postpartum depression from everything that had happened. He sent me to support groups in Holling and made me take a step back from the newspaper.  </p><p> </p><p>I still haven’t spoken to my mother. It’s been nearly seven years. Jughead and I made the decision just before Emma turned one that we would send a couple pictures a year to her and Polly. It was something. We never receive anything back, which also meant she never sent them back- so that was also something.  </p><p>My only friends are Veronica and Rachel. But Rachel and Michael live two hours away with their kid's, Oliver and Charlotte, so it makes getting together a little more difficult. We all constantly joke about how we both had a boy and girl in the opposite order. We spend Fourth of July’s, Thanksgiving’s, and Christmas’ with the Weatherbee’s, they’ve become like grandparents to Emma and Will and we have no doubt they’ll love our new edition just as much.  </p><p> </p><p>Exactly one day after Will turned two, I felt queasy. It was a feeling that I didn’t even know I’d recognize until I felt it. My breasts were tender, and my cycle had never returned to normal after I’d had Will, but I just had a feeling, so I decided to take a test. I still remember the moment that my stomach dropped out as I stared at the two pinks lines looking back at me as I sat on our bathroom floor. We already had a boy and a girl, one of each- just like we had wanted, just like we had planned, we didn’t need to try again. We had always talked about having a lot of kids, especially after Emma was born. But Jughead didn’t want me to go through what I went through with Will again and I was terrified. Veronica had been watching the kids so that we could have a date night and one little drunk slip up in the barn had caused a whole new situation.  </p><p> </p><p>The vineyard is thriving. We are almost to the end of our fourth harvest and we’ve become the top producer of O’Henry peaches and Honeoye strawberries in all of Georgia. We still manage a small patch of sunflowers in the east field. We don't distribute them anymore, but enough for our kitchen table and our friends and family- keeps my grandfather’s memory alive. We’d even built on to the farmhouse last summer, needing extra room when Will couldn’t stay in ours anymore. I’m so<em> happy</em>. My life has become a dream that I never even knew that I wanted.  </p><p> </p><p>“I still think it’s a boy.” Jughead tells me.  </p><p>We’ve decided not to find out the gender of this one. He or she’s conception had been surprising enough and we already had one of each, so we had nothing to lose by not knowing. We both agreed that it’s one of the only true surprises in life, so it only felt right to wait.  </p><p>“Me too, Jug.” I can’t help but giggle. “And I’ve never been wrong.”  </p><p>“He wants to make up for all of the trouble his big brother caused, taking it easy on mommy this go around.”  </p><p>I watch as he leans down, lifting my shirt and pressing his lips against my stomach. Flutters erupt once more, and I feel his smile against my stretched skin- knowing that he feels it too.  </p><p>“You really want a boy.” I mutter, knowing it’s the truth. Emma’s got her daddy wrapped around her little finger, but I know he’s just itching for another son. </p><p>“I just want it healthy.”  He whispers before kissing my skin again. “I just want a healthy baby.”  </p><p>“He likes that.” I murmur. Jughead begins to whisper sweet nothings against my skin, talking to the baby in a deep hushed tone.  </p><p>“What do we have planned today?” He asks me eventually.  </p><p>“Jug, it’s Saturday...”  </p><p>“Why don’t we take the kids to the lake and then you can go to town tomorrow with Veronica...” He tells me as he walks over to our dresser and opens one of the drawers.  </p><p>“Shit, I forgot.” I sit up, rubbing a hand over my forehead. “Man, I can’t believe that Emma will be five next week.”  </p><p>“I have to go see Jeff about plans for next harvest, figured we could just call the sitter for the kids.”  </p><p>I laugh softly and attempt to climb from our bed. He spots me in the corner if his eye and whips around quickly to offer me his hands and pulls me up. I’m a little top heavy in my current state.  </p><p>“I’ll call her.” I smile and he boops my nose with his finger.  </p><p>“I’ll see if Archie wants to swing Lucy over, he can go with me out to Marietta to see Jeff.”  </p><p>“Oh, I’m sure Veronica will love that...” I mutter. “She’s probably nearly the same size as me now,” I walk into our ensuite and turn on the shower. “Can we both be thankful that I never had twins.”  </p><p>“Very thankful.” He mutters.  </p><p>Archie and Veronica are expecting twin boys. She’s just over five months along and already miserable. But they had tried to get pregnant for so long, it didn’t matter. She’s happy and although she isn’t sure how to be a boy mom in the slightest. She’s excited.  </p><p> </p><p>Jughead walks over and kisses the smile that’s playing on my lips. I wrap my arms around his neck and deepen our embrace. I feel his tongue flick against my top lip, and I hold his head in my hands to prevent him from pulling away just yet. </p><p>“Dad!” We hear Emma call out with a high shrieking tone. “Will’s throwing his food at Grover!”  </p><p>I can’t help my groan of frustration, pulling my mouth away from his.  </p><p>“I love them with everything that I have, but our kids are the biggest cockblock.” I rest my forehead against his chest and feel a laugh bubble out from his lungs.  </p><p>“I thought golden retrievers were supposed to be loyal dogs...” He mutters aimlessly, pulling away from my arms around his neck. He’s quoting my own words from when I convinced him to get the dog, just because he knows it aggravates me. I furrow my brow and he only winks at me in return. “Bye, baby.”  </p><p>He leans down to peck my belly.  </p><p>“Bye, baby.” He stands again to peck my lips with a soft hum.  </p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Jug?” I call out after him and watch as his head pops back into our doorway.  </p><p>“Hmm?”  </p><p>“Let’s go to the lake... It’s supposed to be nice today and it might be one of the last days we can take the kids this year.”  </p><p>“Sounds good, babe.” He gives me a soft smile and nod.  </p><p>“Okay.” I nod back and watch as his head disappears from the jam once more. “Oh,” I raise my voice once more. “Go easy on Grover Jug, you can’t blame him for liking your pancakes.”  </p><p>“Okay Betts...” He calls back.  </p><p>“But please tell our son that he cannot feed the dog his breakfast.” I yell out at him. </p><p>“Got it babe.”  </p><p> </p><p>I shake my head, with a chuckle and strip from my shorts and t-shirt to jump in the shower; ready to soak up any of the only quiet time I get before I have to tell our daughter that she can’t wear a bikini to her tea party themed birthday party.  </p><p> </p><p><b> <em> Later That Day </em> </b> </p><p>“Emma...” I call out. “Closer to the shore honey!”  </p><p>All I see is the back of her white and pink polka dotted suit. I swear the girl is a fish, she’d never leave the water if we’d let her. Will is playing with pail and shovel at the shore. His sun hat is nearly pulled over his eyes and it makes me giggle. I feel as Jughead slinks behind me, wrapping his arms around my sides. I relax against him with a small smile on my lips. He kisses my temple, his fingers splaying over my belly.  </p><p>“How are you feeling?” He asks me.  </p><p>“I’m good, Jug.” I nod against him. “Just a little tired.”  </p><p>I place my own hand on my stomach just as it tenses and I feel my skin tighten, cramping settling into my groin and back. My posture is taut, and I have to grit my teeth and close my eyes to get through it.<em> Holy, this </em> <em> one's </em> <em> a doozy.  </em> </p><p>I’ve been having Braxton Hicks, or false contractions for about the last three days. They haven't been consecutive or in a pattern. They just come and go throughout the day- some light and some intense. I know it’s not true labor and it’s also too early. I haven’t told Jughead because I know he’ll worry and overreact and try and make me stay home on bedrest or something crazy. </p><p>“Betts?” He coaxes over me. “Was that a contraction?”  </p><p>“I’m fine, Jug.” I try to calm him. “It’s just Braxton Hicks.”  </p><p>“It felt a little intense.”  </p><p>“Yeah.” I laugh softly. “That happens.”  </p><p>“How long has it been happening?”  </p><p>“The last couple of days,” I shrink into myself, afraid to tell him the truth. I’m fine, but because of what happened with Will, I know he’s going to worry. “A couple times an hour...” I wince. “But not all the time!”  </p><p>“Betts...” He almost sneers. I turn around to face him, placing my hand on his cheek. “Why didn't you tell me?”  </p><p>“Because I didn’t want you to worry,” I say lightheartedly. “I’m fine.” </p><p>“Let me get the kids,” He tells me beginning to stand. “We’ll go back to the house.”  </p><p>“Jug...”  </p><p>“It’s<em> not </em>negotiable.” He says. “And you should’ve told me that you’ve been hurting.”  </p><p> </p><p>He gathers Emma and Will while I gather our things. The little lake is one of our favorite places to bring the kids. It always reminds us of where our story began. We’ve somehow managed to keep it our little secret. We never see anyone else here apart from the times we ask Archie, Veronica, and Lucy to join us.  </p><p>We load the kids into the truck, and Jughead comes around to my door to help me in.  </p><p>“You sure you're okay?” He asks me. My back is pressed against the body of the cab and he’s leaning over me. He can’t get any closer because of my belly in between us and it makes me smile softly.  </p><p>“I’m fine, Jug.” I say. “Just tired and a little uncomfortable, but I’m fine.”  </p><p>“Your downplaying it aren’t you?”  </p><p>He knows me too well. </p><p>“Jughead, I’m about to give birth to your third child- don't push me.”  </p><p>He catches my mouth before I can say anything else. I’m instantly soothed, savoring in the feeling of his lips against mine. His hands hold my face, and he deepens the kiss, pushing my chin upward with his thumb.  </p><p>“Hmm...” I can’t help the hum that escapes my throat.  </p><p>“I’ll run you a bath when we get home... Maybe it’ll help you relax.” He mutters against my mouth. I smile and then feel another contraction starting in my back. I can’t help the whimper that manages to get away. “You having another one?” He pulls away, searching my face for any signs of discomfort. Then his hand is on my belly, my skin is tight. We both feel the baby kick within.  </p><p>“A little one.” I manage to tell him.  </p><p>“Come on...” He pulls on my door handle, the door squeaking as it opens.  </p><p>“Hang on.” I say. </p><p>I reach for his face, pulling his mouth back down to mine. I swallow his sound of surprise and he returns my kiss languidly. I feel myself relax, his kiss being able to ease some of my discomfort. I keep kissing him until I feel the cramping fade away once more, thankful that it was just a little one.  </p><p>“Better?” He murmurs slyly as I pull away.  </p><p>“It helps.” I mutter with a simple shrug, taking his hand so I can climb into the cab of the truck. I watch as he just shakes his head at me, giving my belly a soft kiss before he jogs around and jumps into the driver's seat.  </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I sink deeper into the warm water, running my slick hands over my stomach. Jughead had run me a bath and told me to relax. He said he’d be back once he got the kids settled and ready for bed. I’m so thankful for him. He’s such a good father and I still think about the day that I had been scared to ask him for a baby. I was so ready to be a mom, but I hadn’t realized that he was just as ready to be a dad. And a great one at that.  </p><p>I can hear footsteps and giggles coming from our bedroom and I swear I feel my heart double in size at the sound. Jughead yells at Emma to stop jumping on our bed and I can just picture Will fighting him while Jughead tries to slip his pajama shirt over his head. The little boy is just like his father, always wanting to be naked.  </p><p>I’m not sure how long I lay in tub. I have to add a couple rounds of warm water, it feels good against my sore muscles coaxing me into utter bliss. It seems to be one of the only ways I can get any relief. But then I hear the door open, Jughead peeking his head in. I must have dozed off but when I open my eyes the look on his face causes me to shiver. He’s looking at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, his eyes filled with hunger.  </p><p>“Are you just going to stand there gawking?” I mutter.  </p><p>“Yeah.” He nods without missing a beat. </p><p>He sits on the edge of the tub, dipping his hand into the water before reaching out to stroke his thumb over the top of my cheek. </p><p>“Kids asleep?” I hum, simpering in his touch.  </p><p>“Didn’t even make through the second page.” He laughs softly, still stroking my cheek.  </p><p>“The beach wore em’ out.” I offer a small chuckle and reach up to take his forearm in my grasp, pressing my lips against the rough of his palm.  </p><p>“You want company?” He mutters out. I bite my lip and nod to him, a cheeky smile playing on his lips. He reaches back between his shoulder blades and pulls off his shirt. I drink in the site of his toned chest and abdomen, his tan skin just asking to be ogled. He’s nearly bronze by this time each year after his long summers spent in the fields and on the plow. I’m constantly scolding him to wear sun protectant or even a hat. But the sun also makes his hair a lighter brown. Almost chestnut like Emma’s, who’s inky black curls had developed into honey brown waves.  </p><p>Quickly he strips from the rest of his clothes and I lean up enough in the tub for him to slink in behind me. He’s so damn beautiful and we make the most gorgeous kids. I know that the water is just right by the hum that I hear in my ears. He wraps his arms around my top and pulls me back flesh against him. I feel him slink his hands over my stomach, my belly button protruding and peeking out from the water’s edge. He kisses behind my ear and my hands settle on top of his while he rubs over my belly. My skin begins to tighten again, pressure settling into my bottom. Jughead senses it, kissing my neck and rubbing my belly through it.  </p><p>“You need to call the doctor tomorrow, Betts.” I hear him mutter into my ear once the contraction passes.  </p><p>“I’m thirty-five weeks Jughead,” I murmur lightheartedly. “It’s normal to have Braxton Hicks, they are only more intense because it’s our third baby.”  </p><p>“And our last one,” He kisses behind my ear again. “I hate seeing you so uncomfortable.”  </p><p>“I love you.”  </p><p>“I love you, too.” He says back. “I love you more each day.” </p><p>I tilt my head back so he can take my lips, kissing him briskly. I wish I could turn, straddle him and take him how I want him. I kiss him deeper and feel him smile against my mouth.  </p><p>“Feeling frisky tonight, huh?”  </p><p>“Only for you...” I hum and feel a groan radiate from his chest.  </p><p>He helps me from the tub, drying my soaked skin and round belly. He steals kisses and rubs the towel down my arms. He leads me into our bedroom, and we collapse nakedly onto our bed. Jughead does his best to cradle me against out cool sheets. Soon I’m kissing him and he's kissing me, soothing my discomfort. It’s a glorious night indeed.  </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><b> <em> The Next Day </em> </b> </p><p>“I’ll head into town...” Jughead tells me, slipping his jeans over his hips. “Veronica is going to swing over with Lucy and pick you up,” He begins to walk over to me at our wardrobe. “Sound good?”  </p><p>“Yes.” I nod to him simply.  </p><p>I had called my doctor, like he’d instructed, and she told me that there was nothing to worry about. She was sure that they were only false contractions, but it would make her feel better if I started recording them and if they got any more intense- I should head to the hospital to get checked just to be sure. This seemed to soothe Jughead’s nerves enough to allow me to go to town with Veronica. </p><p>He pecks my lips with a small kiss and reaches down to both of my sides and grasps my sundress ties in his hands. He joins them at my back and begins to tie a knot. He holds both of my arms before he presses his mouth behind my left ear, making me smile through a shiver.  </p><p>“Thank you.” I mutter.  </p><p>“No problem.”  </p><p>“Amy should be here around noon.” I tell him about the sitter, securing a dainty silver necklace around my throat. I turn around and catch his wrist in my grasp, pulling him back to me. I lean up enough to press my palms against his bare chest, my nails lightly skimming over his skin.  </p><p>“Call me if you need anything.” He mutters. I simply nod and lean in to kiss his lips once more. </p><p>“I love you.”  </p><p>“I love you more.” He smiles giving me one last kiss. He takes my hand, and we walk out to the kitchen. He slips on a t-shirt from the dryer and I watch as he presses a kiss to top of Emma and Will's heads before he’s out the door and headed for his truck- leaving a trail of dust and gravel in his wake.  </p><p> </p><p><b> <em> Later That Day </em> </b> </p><p>Veronica and I head to town. We grab a light lunch and catch up on everything pregnancy and baby related. Then we set our sights on shopping, but I know that with Veronica- nothing ever goes as planned and I shouldn’t think any different.  </p><p>“This might have been a little over kill, V...” I laugh. “Jug is going to kill me.”  </p><p>“Just because you aren’t having a baby shower doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a little sprinkle.” She tells me tossing the rest of the bags into the trunk of her SUV. </p><p>I just laugh at her as she eyes me in the rearview mirror and shut the back hatch.  </p><p>“Excuse me, miss!” A frantic store worker barges through the front door of the shop, a shopping bag tight in the clutch of his right hand as he waves it around. I watch Veronica spot him and step onto the sidewalk as I flip down the visor in front of me and run some chap stick over my dry lips.  </p><p>I can’t believe that in just a few short weeks, Jughead and I’s last child will be here- just as a small contraction begins to wave through me. I’m ready for our baby to be here, I’m ready for this pregnancy to be over, but a small part of me wishes it wasn’t our last.  </p><p> </p><p>I turn my head just as I watch Veronica freeze, her knuckles white in a clutch on the plastic bag. And then she’s screaming? </p><p>And then I feel... <em> pain. </em>  </p><p>It’s loud and then it’s silent and<em> tight </em>, I’m confused, and everything hurts... but then everything is dark. </p><p> </p><p><b> <em> Veronica’s POV </em> </b> </p><p>“Thank you, sir.” I nod with a genuine smile, taking the shopping bag from him. I watch as Betty applies what I assume to be lip balm in the passenger seat of my GMC Acadia.  </p><p>I’m so happy that I was able to get her out of the house. There’s also no one else that I’d want to share my pregnancy with. She’s such a great mom and handles her crazy life so gracefully, but everyone deserves a break occasionally. Twin boys are something I never thought I would have to conquer in my life. And were just as much a shock to me as they were to Archie. We’d been trying to get pregnant for a while but neither of expected that when it happened there would be two of them. With them being boys, it scared me half to death. I have no idea how to be a boy mom, but I know that with the help of Betty- I'll be in the best of hands.  </p><p> </p><p>Then I see it... There’s a pickup truck barreling toward my car and I know in a millisecond that it has no intention of slowing down. The color washes from my face and it take a moment before I’m able to let out a blood curdling scream. I feel like everything is moving in slow motion. I catch Betty’s head begin to turn but then the truck is here. The store clerk has to pull me backward by my shirt and my feet go stumbling in reverse. My back-passenger door is sandwiching a light pole. Smoke is coming from underneath both hoods. I’m shaking and then my face is wet, and I realize that I’m crying. I hold my stomach in both of my hands and attempt to take a deep breath. I purse my lips, but my body in complete shock. I hear the store clerk yell that he’s going to call <em>911. </em> </p><p>And then, the driver of the pickup truck climbs from the cab. It’s an old man. He has a cut on his head, blood streaking down his cheek and he stumbles before falling to his knees. He looks disoriented and the bile rises in my throat because I know, without a doubt, that he’s drunk.  </p><p>But then I realize that I need to help Betty. I rush up to the car. The air bags have deployed and she’s unconscious and leaning toward the center console.  </p><p>“Oh God,” I gasp, my hand shaking over my mouth.  </p><p>I see that her legs are pinned by the dashboard, it looks wet and there’s blood. <em> A lot of blood. Fuck.  </em> </p><p>There’s a large gash on her forehead and I notice that there’s glass in her hair, so her head must’ve hit the window on impact. I curse again when I see that she’s not wearing her seatbelt. There’s a whooshing air sound coming from the front of the car and I’m not sure what to do. I know that I shouldn’t touch her, but I can’t help it. She needs help.  </p><p>The door won’t open as I yank, but I pull harder. I hear sirens begin to grow closer and then I realize that I’ve been muttering pleas and cries for help endlessly for minutes.  </p><p>I’m able to maneuver myself to reach inside the passenger side window, careful of the broken glass and my belly. Betty is always talking about how the baby moves when she or Jughead strokes her stomach, so I firmly stroke my palm over her shirt. My face twists into a wince, my nose scrunching into my forehead because I don’t feel anything. No movement, no flutters. Holy shit. <em>No.</em> </p><p> </p><p>Then there’s a paramedic at my side. He takes my shoulders and leads me over to the ambulance. I’m crying hysterically and then I realize that there’s blood on my hand and I must’ve cut it on the broken window.  </p><p>“Hurry,” I cry. “Please hurry.”  </p><p>“We need to check you out.” The paramedic tells me.  </p><p>“She’s... She’s thirty-five weeks pregnant.” I gasp out. “She’s thirty-five weeks pregnant.” </p><p>“What’s your name?” He asks me. </p><p>“Veronica.” I mutter. “Veronica Andrews.”  </p><p>“Holy shit, your Archie Andrew’s wife?” Another paramedic suddenly asks, the realization kicking in- the joys of living in a small town.  </p><p>I just nod, gasping again, a steady hand on my belly.  </p><p>“Her name is Betty-” I have to pause. “Betty Jones... I- I need to call her husband!”  </p><p>“Let’s get you fixed up, huh?” The first paramedic tells me. “You’ve got a pretty nasty cut here... How far along are you?” He nods to my obvious belly. </p><p> I want to tell him that it’s not polite to ask a woman if she’s pregnant, but I figure it’s not the time. I have to clench my teeth when he rubs, what I assume to be some kind of alcohol swab over my broken skin.  </p><p>“Twenty-three weeks...” I manage.  </p><p>I know by the look in his eyes that he doesn’t believe me. I’m way too big to only be twenty-three weeks.  </p><p>“I’m pregnant with twins.”  </p><p>I hear the firefighters yell out that she’s pinned and another one calls out for the jaws. It makes me wince once more. I've seen enough of these scenes on television shows to know that none of this is good.  </p><p>“Is this yours ma’am?” A firefighter calls out. He lifts my purse into the air, and I nod profusely. I reach for it, rummaging inside for my cell phone. I curse when I realize that there’s a bunch of tiny cracks along the screen- it’s still useable though.  </p><p>I watch from afar as they put a C-spine collar around Betty’s neck. They use this big tool with a pair of teeth on the end to pry off the side door.  </p><p>“You’ve got to get her out!” I cry out loudly. “She’s pregnant and the baby could be in distress, you have to help her!” </p><p>“They are working as fast as they can,” The paramedic tries to calm me. “Miss you have to calm down.”  </p><p>“How’s the baby?” I gasp out to the paramedics in front of me.  </p><p>“Too soon to tell.” One of the guys at the car heard me and calls back. </p><p>“Her heart rate’s up, I can’t get a blood pressure and she’s still unconscious.” Another paramedic calls out to the rig.  </p><p>“Shit.” I mutter, my other shaking palm meets my forehead.  </p><p>This can’t be happening... We live in the smallest town where everybody knows everybody. It’s then that I see the other driver in the backseat of one of the cop cars on the scene, but I don’t recognize him. Perhaps I’m just in shock and maybe this town isn’t what I’ve grown up to know. I need to get ahold of Archie- <em> of Jughead </em>.  </p><p>Jesus, Betty could die, the baby could die. Holy shit, they could <em> die.  </em> </p><p>This is bad. This is so bad.  </p><p> </p><p>“We got her!” I hear someone yell and then I see Betty is on a backboard, but I hear some of the firefighter's mumble about her water having broken and I see that there’s blood covering the skin of her legs. There’s a lot of blood.  </p><p>“E-Early...” I mutter, my hands frantically searching and landing on the paramedic’s forearm. “It’s too early.”  </p><p>“Veronica.” The paramedic takes my arms in both of his hands, calming me. “You need to call her husband.”  </p><p> </p><p>They load Betty into the ambulance, pulling me swiftly inside beside her. I pull my phone out, my hands still shaky but I manage to press the most recent call and lift the speaker to my ear.  </p><p> </p><p><b> <em> Archie’s POV </em> </b> </p><p>“Hey babe, Jug and I are just on our way back. You and Betty want to want us for dinner at their place?” I begin to ramble as soon as I answer the phone. I hear her let out a sound and it makes my stomach churn. “Ronnie, baby?”  </p><p>There’s a long silence and for a second, I think she’s hung up. But then I hear her whimper and sob and I’m frozen. I feel as Jughead slowly brings the truck to a stop, staring at me with wide eyes from the passenger seat. He knows something is up.  </p><p>“Veronica, talk to me.” I demand. “What’s wrong? Where are you? Are you hurt?”  </p><p>“Arch,” </p><p>My name comes out as barely a whisper and it’s obvious that something bad has happened.  </p><p>“I’m here, baby. Tell what’s going on. Are you okay? Is Lucy hurt?”  </p><p>“There-” I hear her gasp. “There was an accident.”  </p><p>“What?” I stutter, my voice catching slightly in my throat. Panic is evident in my voice and I’m frozen.  </p><p>“A drunk driver, hit my car...” Veronica is crying and it’s then that I can hear sirens in the background. <em> Holy shit </em>.  </p><p>“Are you okay?” I manage to mutter out- almost scared of her response.  </p><p>There’s nothing that comes through the other side until a hear her whimper again.  </p><p>“Veronica, are you okay?” My voice becomes sterner.  </p><p>“I- I’m okay...” I feel some of the tension leave my body. “But Betty,”  </p><p>Her voice cuts off in a whimper and I take the phone away from my ear so I can put her on speaker.  </p><p>“Veronica?” Jughead mutters.  </p><p>“Jughead!” I hear her gasp, her voice clipped and raising in pitch.  </p><p>“Veronica, what’s going on?”  </p><p>“It’s Betty...” She gasps. “Jug, I’m so sorry...”  </p><p>Suddenly a male voice cuts into the line. It’s muffled and I can tell it’s from a distance, almost sounding like a radio.  </p><p>“ETA 1 minute. Prepare for direct transport.”  </p><p>“There was a car accident.” I turn to tell Jughead, who is still confused as hell. “It sounds bad man.”  </p><p>I watch as the color fades from his face- he looks like a ghost.  </p><p>“We’re at the hospital in Holling,” Veronica stutters quickly through the phone. “Just get here, Arch.”  </p><p>“We’re on our way.” I tell her without skipping a beat.  </p><p>She hangs up and I look back at Jughead. He’s still in his seat, not moving an inch. His expression is blank and it’s only then that I notice he’s holding the steering wheel so tight in his grip that his knuckles are white.  </p><p>“Jughead...”  </p><p>“What the fuck.” Is all he manages to mutter out. “I’ve got to get to her...”  </p><p>Suddenly he’s frantically searching for the keys in the ignition. His movements clipped and hurried. I know that he’s in shock, completely unable to process what my wife has just said.  </p><p>“Fuck, no.” I reach out, stopping him from switching gears on the shift. “You aren’t in any shape to drive anywhere.” I have ahold of his arm. “I’ll drive- move over.”  </p><p>“I don’t give a fuck who drives...” He roars at me. “I just need to get there now.”  </p><p>I can only shake my head, his loud voice causing my ears to ring.  </p><p>“Holy shit... the baby.”  </p><p>The color is gone from his face once more and mine too. I know just by Veronica’s reaction that this isn’t just a small fender bender- this is serious, and Lord I hope, my boys are okay.  </p><p>“Chill man,” I tell him.  </p><p>I climb from the truck and run around the front to jump behind the wheel while Jughead slides into the passenger seat. I pull the shift into drive and spin the gravel beneath us, leaving a cloud of dust after a small fishtail.  </p><p>“Get your head on. The last thing she needs is you losing your shit right now. You need to be there for Betty. Take a deep breath, Jug.”  </p><p>“How can I be cool?” He mutters. “My wife could die and we’re over an hour away from the hospital!” He yells, his tone haunted.  </p><p>“Jesus,” I can’t help but whisper.  </p><p>I press the pedal to the floor, hard enough the I fear my foot might go right through the mat. I grip the wheel with both of my hands as my best friend continues to shake in his seat, staring out at the road with the most terrified blank stare.  </p><p> </p><p><b> <em> Jughead’s POV </em> </b> </p><p>I feel numb. My heart is splayed open...raw. I feel like I’m stuck in a never-ending tornado. Everything is just swirling around me. I can’t make anything out and I don’t even really know where I am. The thought that Betty could be severely hurt is simply unfathomable. I just saw her this morning and I know that I won’t be able to live with myself if her <em>I love </em><em>you</em> is the last one, I’ll ever hear.  </p><p>I haven’t even taken the time to process that something could be wrong with our baby. Car accidents kill unborn babies- kill their mother’s. The only thing in my head is the repetitive echo of the panic in Veronica’s voice. Something very bad had happened and something was very wrong. The only thing I feel is paralyzing fear. I’m silently begging Archie to drive faster, all while highway signs and tall grass fields are wiping past us at lightning speed.  </p><p>My throat feels tight. Memories begin to flood over me. My brain flashes back to the first time I’d ever laid my eyes on her. She’d been leaning against the hay bales, journal in her lap, sneaking peeks at me while I worked on her grandfather’s truck. She’d been just seventeen then, I’d been twenty- that was seventeen years ago. I have flashes of the night I asked her to be my wife, the night we had found out we were pregnant with Emma, the day that Will was born. Betty is the love of my life and I can’t do this without her. I think about her smile. The way that she responds to my touch. The idea that all of that can be ripped away by the recklessness of a drunk driver seems so unfair. All I can imagine is here lying lifeless on a stretcher in an ambulance, fighting for her life <em> and </em> the life of our unborn child.  </p><p>Betty’s constantly telling me how good of a father I am- something I’d always held doubt in because of how my father was when I was growing up. Truth is, I’m only a good father to our children because Betty is their mother. She’s my other half, the love of my life and I have no doubt that I’d be lost without her.   </p><p>“Jughead,” Archie breaks me from my stupor. I can tell by the tone of his voice that he’s choosing his words carefully. “You need to breathe. You’re going to have to be strong for Betty- for the baby.”  </p><p>“Arch-”  </p><p>“Just keep your shit together until we know what’s happening.” He snaps.  </p><p>I know that he’s right. Betty is everything to me, she needs me.  </p><p> </p><p>Archie roars to a stop outside the emergency room entrance. He practically throws the keys at the valet driver and I’m sprinting through the double doors. I have to turn my shoulders and slink through before they can open all the way.  I rush up to the first desk I see.  </p><p>“Betty Jones,” I bite out. “I need to see her.”  </p><p>“Jughead?” A small voice enters my ears.  </p><p>I turn and find Veronica rising from a chair in the waiting area. Her eyes are filled with tears. I can see that her cheeks are red and puffy, and my stomach falls to my feet when I spot the blood streaked on her shirt. <em> Fuck, blood.  </em> </p><p>Archie rushes over to her, taking her into his arms. She begins to cry once more, and the sounds of her cries cripple me. Veronica pulls away from Archie after a moment. She walks closer to me, wiping her fingers over her wet cheeks.  </p><p>“They just took her to surgery.” She tells me.  </p><p>“Shit.” I run a hand over my forehead. “The baby?”  </p><p>“They won’t tell me anything because I’m not family.” Veronica tells me, shaking her head with glassy eyes.  </p><p>“What the hell happened?” I mutter through clenched teeth.  </p><p>“The truck came out of nowhere,” Veronica gasps.  </p><p>“Did you know the driver?” Archie asks her and she only shakes her head.  </p><p>“We were shopping, we must’ve forgotten a bag and I ran back to get it... and Betty-Betty was in the car,” She gasps over a sob. “It’s bad Jughead, it’s really bad.”  </p><p>I watch as Archie takes her into his arms once more. He attempts to console her cries, holding her tight and nuzzling her face into his neck.  </p><p> </p><p>Veronica tells me that Betty was unconscious, knocked out during the crash. She told me about the paramedic’s telling her that Betty’s water had broken and that there’d been blood- <em> a lot </em> of blood. I knew that her legs had been pinned under the dashboard at her knees and Veronica was in full body racking sobs as she explained how that the baby wouldn’t move for her when she had stroked over Betty’s belly.  </p><p> </p><p>A moment later I whip around to face a tall woman in a white coat after Archie gestures toward the doorway. She’s middle aged and has light brown hair wrapped tight into a bun on the top of her head. I see some blood on her shoes and I immediately wonder if it’s my wife's. The scrubs under her jacket are wrinkled and disheveled. It’s as if she either didn’t have her perfectly clean coat on while she’d been with a patient or she’d found time to change it before stepping into the waiting room.  </p><p>“Mr. Jones?”  </p><p>“Um, yes...” I step forward, realizing that she in fact said my name. “Yes, that’s me. I’m Jughead Jones.” </p><p>“Mr. Jones.” She says once more, her voice laced with absolutely no emotion. She reaches out a stern hand to shake mine. Her hand is cold and calloused. “I’m Dr. Kimble, I’m the ER physician taking lead on your wife’s care.”  </p><p>“How is she?” I ask her anxiously. “Can I see her?”  </p><p>I watch as her expression only tightens, and it makes my gut ache. Her expression is supposed to soften, not harden.  </p><p>“Mr. Jones, I think it’d be best if we went somewhere to talk.” </p><p>Veronica, Archie and I are the only ones in the waiting room and whatever the doctor has to say- she can say it in front of Archie and Veronica.  </p><p>“What is wrong with my wife, doctor?” I ask her sternly. My tone is clear that I don’t want to go <em>somewhere to talk.</em>  </p><p>I watch as Dr. Kimble takes a deep breath before she begins to speak again.  </p><p>“Your wife is in surgery...” She tells me. “She’s pretty banged up. She’s got some bad cuts on her face and arms. We believe she has a concussion. Her left ankle is broken, and her kidney was badly damaged during the accident, so we had to rush her into surgery right away.”  </p><p>“And the baby?” I ask her in a rush, I’m not even able to fully process what she’s just said about Betty- Veronica's gasps echoing into my ears. </p><p>“Mr. Jones, I think you should sit down.”  </p><p>She gestures toward a nearby chair. I hadn't even realized that I had begun pacing and by the tone in her voice, I know that news isn’t what I want to hear. I sit down in the chair next to Archie, he places a supportive hand on my shoulder in a strong grip. I look at him and nod my gratitude.  </p><p>“Betty lost a lot of blood.” Dr. Kimble begins to tell us. “It was believed by the paramedics that her water broke during the accident... But that isn’t exactly true.”  </p><p>I hear a deep breath leaves through Veronica’s lips, but it doesn’t quite feel like a sigh of relief. My stomach and throat feel like they are being held in a vice grip. I feel like I’m suffocating, strangulated and numb. </p><p>“I don’t understand.” I shake my head, turning back to the doctor.  </p><p>“The accident caused Betty’s placenta to tear. This caused an immense amount of blood loss, so much so that the paramedic’s believed that your wife’s water had actually broken.”  </p><p>The doctor pauses and I just look at her intensely, confusion still clouding my eyes.  </p><p>“This causes a lot of stress on the baby and we aren’t even sure if she’ll make it out of surgery without having to deliver.” She tells me. “Your baby’s heartrate is only slightly elevated; we’ll administer drugs to speed up the fetal lung maturity and extensive bedrest will be needed as this is extremely dangerous for your wife.”  </p><p>“What?” I ask her incredulously. “I don’t understand, what do you mean <em> dangerous for Betty?”  </em> </p><p>“Mr. Jones, your wife is only thirty-five weeks pregnant and we believe that do to this being her third pregnancy and with her age- the accident places her at risk for extensive bleeding.” The doctor explains slowly, but it’s no use- I'm still trying to process everything that has happened in the last four hours. “Her placenta is torn and may not be functioning properly; we need to do some more testing. Your baby is doing fine but by choosing to maintain the pregnancy it places Betty at high-risk for possible complications.”  </p><p>“Like what? What does all of this mean?” I ask her. My brain feels so cloudy- I don’t understand. I watch Dr. Kimble wipe her hand over her forehead. I know that she’s attempting to gather her thoughts. I don’t think that she expected us to have this conversation now, but now she can’t get out of it.  </p><p>“It places Betty at risk for things like seizures, high blood pressure, uterine rupture, shock.”  </p><p>“Holy shit.” Archie mutters through shock next to me. My face is blank, I can’t say anything.  </p><p>“Mr. Jones,” Dr. Kimble brings me back.  </p><p><em> Fuck. </em>  </p><p>“Why the hell are we even talking about this. Save my wife, deliver the baby.”  </p><p>“Jughead,” she reaches out to take my hand.<em> Holy shit, this is serious. </em>“Before surgery your wife woke up- it was only for a minute or two.” She pauses once more. “If a patient is cognitive enough to answer our questions- she knew her name and where she was- she was a little confused as to what exactly had happened, but she asked about the baby... She told us to do whatever we have to do to save the baby and as of now delivery is the last option we want to entertain.”  </p><p>“What?” I roar. I jump up from the seat, my face laced with anger. “No. No you can’t do that.”  </p><p>“We have to honor your wife’s wishes Jughead.” The doctor tells me calmly. “She was told the risks... with that we have no choice.”  </p><p>“You’re killing her!” I almost scream. “That baby is killing her, take it out.”  </p><p>“Betty doesn’t want that Jughead...” Veronica interjects. I feel her hand on my forearm as she tries to calm me.  </p><p>“She’s in surgery fighting for her life!” I yell. “What she wants is to be a mother to the two children we have at home and she can’t do that if-if... if she’s gone.” my voice trails out.  </p><p>“She’s a fighter, Jug.” Archie shakes me.  </p><p>“I...” I sink back into the chair. My body is slumped, defeated. “I can’t do this alone.”  </p><p>“I’m going to go get an update on your wife.” Dr. Kimble mumbles out. “And she's wanted you to know that she loves you.” the doctor finishes, her hand leaving mine once more before she stands and then she’s gone.  </p><p> </p><p>I feel Archie beside me, his hand is back on my shoulder. Veronica is crying again, leaning into Archie for his support. My heart hurts. I can’t quite explain it, but it’s like an agonizing ache has settled into my chest and won’t leave. I feel like I’m in a never-ending nightmare and I want nothing more than to wake up.  </p><p> </p><p>I’m not sure how long we sit in silence. Dr. Kimble hasn’t come back, and I know it’s getting late because less and less bodies seem to pass through the hallway outside of the waiting room. I know that Archie stepped away to call Amy, the sitter. She told him to keep her updated and that she’d stay through the night with the kids at my place. Mabel also called, she’d heard about the accident and after Veronica had explained what happened and what was going on, Mabel offered to go to the house and help with the children.  </p><p>Veronica gave me a cup of coffee, but I’m not sure how long I’ve been holding it in my hand and I’m sure it’s ice cold by now and I never even took a sip. It’s almost eerie how quiet the waiting room is. But then again, it’s not that large of a hospital so maybe that’s normal. I can see the nearest nurse's station from the waiting room, and I know it’s almost dusk because I can see them gathering for shift change.  </p><p>“Jug...”  </p><p>“Hmm.” I know that I snap up, startled, almost jumping from my slump that has settled in the chair. I almost crush the paper cup full of cold coffee in my hand, but I relax in time to stop the dark liquid from ending up all over the floor. I run a hand over my face to erase any fatigue that may have settled there.  </p><p>“She’ll get through this. The two of you will get through this and everything will be okay.” Archie begins to tell me. “You have to believe that. It’s what Betty needs right now- faith. We have to believe that she’s going to pull through this- the baby too. We have to.”  </p><p>“I know.” I breathe through a sigh after a moment. “You’re right Arch. She’s a fighter. She’s going to make it, she has to.”  </p><p>“She will, man.”  </p><p>“This can’t be how it ends.” I plead. “It feels like I just got her back- we haven’t had enough time...”  </p><p>I’m beginning to feel fidgety and impatient. It’s been too long with no word on how Betty or the baby is doing. I feel like I’m losing my mind. I have no sense of time even though the only sound in my ear is the ticking of the hands on the nearby wall clock. But then I spot a white coat in the side of my eye and I quickly snap my head to its direction.  </p><p>I jump up from the chair when I realize that it’s Dr. Kimble walking over the threshold.  </p><p>“How is she?” I ask quickly. “Can I see her.” I watch the doctors face settle and I notice that she looks as exhausted as I feel. </p><p>“Why don’t you come on back?” She tells me, ushering with her hand.  </p><p>I turn and search the eyes of my friends. We understand that the doctor only means me so they both nod to me, Archie’s hand squeezing Veronica’s knee. I feel like I’ve lost the ability to speak so I just give a solemn nod and take a step to follow the doctor.  </p><p>Her stride begins to slow outside of a room. I try to look in but there’s a curtain covering the door. “We were able to repair her kidney and stop the bleeding. I believe that she has a concussion and we’ve placed her on some precautions to make sure that her bleeding stays under control.” </p><p>“So, what’s the next step? What does all of this mean?”  </p><p>“Well, why don’t you see for yourself...”  </p><p>My heart just about falls to my feet when Dr. Kimble pulls back the curtain and there sits my wife in the bed holding our newborn baby. A loud broken gasp escapes my throat as I rush into the room to envelope both of them in my arms.  </p><p>“It’s a girl...” Betty gasps out. I pull back to see tears in her eyes. “You have another daughter.”  </p><p>I reach out to hold her face gently in my hands. She has a deep cut above her left eyebrow, and I can see that it’s been stitched. She also has some abrasions on her cheeks bruising along her jaw. I lean in and press my forehead against hers. I hear a heavy exhale escape her lips and finally I feel a huge amount of weight shift within me and I can breathe again. She lifts her hand to hold my fingers against her face as I press my lips against the skin of her forehead. I pull back and search her eyes, they are glassy and tired looking, but she looks down at our daughter and then gestures to give me the baby- placing her small body in my arms.  </p><p>She’s perfectly pink and so small. She can’t be any more than five pounds but she’s beautiful. I can tell that she has Betty’s nose and mouth. I hear her coo out a small noise and it brings a smile to my lips. I reach up to wipe at my eyes. Tears had unknowingly collected in the corners, threatening to fall. I touch the rim of her white and yellow striped hat with the tips of my fingers. I run my hand over her small arm and instantly her tiny hand wraps around my finger.  </p><p>“Hi honey,” I mutter. “Welcome to the world...”  </p><p>She’s murmurs noises and peeks open an eye at me and instantly I know that she has stolen my heart.  </p><p>"She's perfect." Betty mutters. "She's okay, everyone is okay..." </p><p>“She’s beautiful, Betts.” I can whisper. “I am so glad you’re okay... I thought I lost you.”  </p><p>My voice cracks in my own ears and I watch her scoff in surprise at my emotions. I lean forward to place my forehead on hers once more. She reaches up and her fingers brush over my sore cheeks. She holds my head in her hands and presses her lips against the raw and sensitive flesh.  </p><p>“Jug,” I hear her begin to cry. “You’ll never lose me.”  </p><p>“I love you...” I can’t help but sigh.  </p><p>“I love you too.”  </p>
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